


Yuletide Carols

by EmberLeo



Series: The Emberquizzy Chronicles [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Art, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Inquisitor is a singer, Modern Girl in Thedas, Musical, Pagan Festivals, Pre-Relationship, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Self-Insert Ridiculousness, Solstice, Winter Solstice, Yule, Yuletide, pagan inquisitor, the gang's all here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28569573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmberLeo/pseuds/EmberLeo
Summary: Inquisitor Ember is feeling especially homesick over the longest nights after they get to Skyhold.She's not as alone as she fears.-----A Holiday side story from the Canticle of DreamsIt should stand alone, but fits somewhere between chapters 13 and 14.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Emberquizzy Chronicles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1241567
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Yuletide Carols

**Author's Note:**

> Have a fic for... uh... 12th Night? Yeah, that was totally on purpose!
> 
> I started writing this for Yule of 2019, and hit a wall. It seems to have suited 2020 even better, though, honestly, so here we go, have some self-indulgent fluff.
> 
> I hope everyone had safe and happy holidays, and may the coming year be better than the last!
> 
> -E-

Ember sat on the floor of her balcony with her back against the wall, wrapped up in her cloak and a blanket, staring out at the perpetually-frosted peaks beyond Skyhold’s walls. The air was crisp, allowing individual snowflakes to settle on the wisps of copper hair escaping her usual bun. Every so often the wind died down for a moment, and the cheerful sounds of Inquisition soldiers drinking in the warm tavern below reached her. The freshly painted sign for the newly-dubbed ‘Herald’s Rest’ swung gently when the wind picked up again.

She sniffled, wiping her nose absently with the corner of her cloak. She really shouldn’t have been sitting out in the weather alone, but she didn’t want to inflict her melancholy on anyone else. They wouldn't have any reference for what she was missing.

She sang quietly to herself, her breath misting in the chill. 

_“I’m dreaming in a white solstice,  
Just like the ones I’d never known  
Where I can’t help thinking  
While they’re all drinking  
I’m lost  
Far too far from home _

_I’m dreaming of a warm solstice  
With all my friends and family near  
But I know that can’t happen here  
So my Yule’s not merry this year” _

She sighed and struggled to her feet against the wall, huffing with bemused self-deprecation at how useless her nerve-numb legs were being. Clearly, sitting directly on the stone of the balcony didn’t do her hips any favors. She pulled the blanket and cloak off her back, bundled them up, and tossed them inside her room, and then crawled through the door and shut it behind her. She debated crawling over to her desk to climb the chair, or stretching out on the floor right where she was, only to shake her head, roll her eyes at herself, and crawl across the room to stretch out in front of the hearth.

“Dragons are fine, but one Yuletide without my big sister, and I fall to pieces. Pathetic,” she muttered to herself as the feeling slowly tingled its way back into her legs. Wincing at her stupid mood as much as the pain in her legs, she screwed her eyes shut.

A quiet voice spoke above her. _“‘I know who you are, and I love you anyway.’ He said it all wrong, but that was better. ‘I’m not alone just because she’s not here.’_ You miss them. I want to help.”

She opened her eyes, startled, to find Cole in his huge hat, looming directly above her face, his feet on the floor just beyond her head.

 _“Little brother!”_ he exclaimed happily as the memory flooded her mind, unbidden, of a sturdy toddler standing in the same place, his feet pulling her loose hair painfully to the floor as he wailed in confusion and distress at her tears.

“Poor kid,” she chuckled tearfully. “At least you’re not standing on my hair.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Cole assured her. “He didn’t want to hurt you either. He didn’t know why you were crying, so he cried with you.”

Ember nodded, remembering hugging the little boy once their parents pulled him off her, and assuring him that she was okay and it wasn’t his fault.

She sighed.

“That was a long time ago. He’ll be thirty this year. Or maybe he already is.” She bit her lip, trying not to cry again, and failing as a new wave of realizations at how much she was missing washed over her.

Cole held out his hands to help her sit up a moment before she could reach for his help. He pulled her to her feet, and they sat down on the couch facing the fire. He took off his hat and leaned against her. The gesture was careful, and a bit stiff, but he seemed determined to be comforting, so she wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and leaned her head against his blond hair.

“Why do you want gifts inside socks?” he asked a moment later.

She shook with gentle laughter. “They’re not really socks. We put them up along the mantle and put little presents in them for everybody.”

“You and your sister got two socks, but they didn’t match.”

“One at Dad’s house, one at Mom’s house. And later, one at my boyfriend’s house, too.”

“All filled with presents instead of feet.”

“Yup,” she whispered, her throat thick.

 _“Bad jokes and paper crowns. Fir trees carrying familiar objects. Furry people singing familiar songs. White candles in a wreath on a young girl’s head echo three purple and one pink from before. One golden candle to carry the sun over the longest night._ It hurts to remember but you don’t want to forget.” Cole hummed.

Ember nodded and smiled, tears streaming down her face. “Even in the deepest dark, the light doth shine.”

“ _There’s always a light in the darkness, no matter who brings the matches. Don’t leave anyone out in the cold._ We can’t replace them, but you’re not alone, Ember,” Cole assured her. “We won’t leave you out in the cold.”

\-----

When Ember emerged from her rooms the next morning, Solas was waiting for her at the base of the stairs with a parchment in his hand and a baffled look on his face.

“I am not certain what purpose this serves, but Cole had me make a list of things he seems to believe you need. He was very insistent, but the list makes little sense to me. Perhaps you will understand it?”

She held out her hand for the parchment, a hesitant smile on her lips. Her throat was still sore from crying last night, and she imagined her eyes were puffy, but Solas, who would undoubtedly notice, didn’t seem concerned. Perhaps Cole had already explained in his own, strange way.

She skimmed the list, biting her lips to avoid bursting out in hoarse laughter.

_\--  
Twelve drums, eleven flutes  
Nineteen nobles dressed for a ball  
Eight nanny goats, young women to milk them  
Thirteen large shore birds, small lake  
Seven small songbirds  
Five rings of aurum  
(to be worn by an enthusiastic pink nug with blonde hair)  
Three Orlesian chickens  
Two entwined fruit trees  
(the nug wants a frog)  
\-- _

Solas raised an eyebrow at her, lips twitching. “Well, if nothing else, the list itself seems to bring you a good deal of amusement.”

“It’s-” She cleared her throat, “It’s just a song. He’s seeing my memory of a popular puppet show from my childhood.”

“I see.” He still looked perplexed, and looked at her expectantly. She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows at him. “And… do you know why he insisted _I_ be the one to give you everything on the list?” he asked, finally.

Ember’s eyebrows furrowed, and she shrugged, blushing. “It’s just a silly holiday song.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps you could sing it for me sometime.”

Ember started to hand the parchment back to Solas, but he shook his head. “I suspect Cole’s intentions were satisfied by my giving you the list. Clearly it brings you some joy. You should keep it.”

She held the page to her chest for a moment, grinning. “Verily, I shall treasure it always.” She laughed again, and then carefully folded the paper in half several times to tuck it into a pocket.

Solas watched as she walked away, a contemplative smile tugging at his lips.

\-----

When Ember returned to her suite after lunch, there was a surprisingly large fir tree in the middle of the room.

She walked around it to see if there was any clue how it had gotten there. There wasn’t even a trail of loose needles to show the path it had travelled. Looking beneath, she found several bits of wood lashed to the trunk, holding it up.

She smiled, and went downstairs to ask the quartermaster for a bucket she could borrow for a few weeks.

\-----

Solas stood under the scaffolding in the rotunda, examining a sprig of oaksbane that had mysteriously appeared tied to the wooden frame. The berries had many useful alchemical applications, and drying herbs by hanging them was certainly a well-established method. Granted that oaksbane shouldn’t be confused for food herbs drying in the kitchen rafters, why would someone choose his office for hanging just the one sprig?

“Waiting for someone to come down and kiss you?” Ember’s amused voice reached him from the library, where she was resting her arms against the railing, smirking at him as he looked up.

He gave her a bemused smile. “Why do you ask?”

She pointed to the herb above his head, eyebrows raised. “You’re standing under the mistletoe.” She turned from the bannister, her footsteps echoing down the stairs.

She emerged with a frown. “That’s not actually a thing here, is it?”

He shook his head. “I am not aware of any such traditions, no. Oaksbane has a particular meaning to you, then?”

“Several. It was fashioned into a dart to kill the most beloved son of Odin. I’ve used it as a symbol for exorcism.” 

Her teeth worried at her lower lip, drawing his gaze. He took a step towards her and then shook himself, mentally admonishing himself to focus on her words. “Might that method be of use here?”

“I doubt it.” She shook her head, staring at the herb above and behind him. “Spirits here wouldn’t be influenced by the reference.”

“A fair point. But what about oaksbane prompted your question?”

She blushed. “Ah, well, mistletoe has long been a symbol for peace, hospitality, and fertility. According to tradition, any pair of people caught standing under a sprig of mistletoe during the winter holidays should kiss. It’s considered bad luck to refuse.”

Solas’ eyes narrowed slightly, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “It occurs to me that you have yet to sing me the song you mentioned yesterday.”

Ember blinked, startled at the sudden change of subject. She cleared her throat, flustered. “Oh, well, let me just sing you the last verse. It’s very repetitive.”

He nodded, his expression serious, holding out his hands to indicate that she had his full attention. She took a deep breath, and then glanced nervously overhead, and winced. Her song came out just above a whisper - enough to carry the tune without disturbing those in the library and rookery above.

 _“On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...”_ As she sang the last few notes, her cheeks flushed, the effect more endearing than it should be.

Solas raised his eyebrows, then closed his eyes, nodding. “I believe I understand. It seems our dear Cole may be trying his hand at matchmaking.”

He opened his eyes to find her eyes wide, eyebrows raised.

“Ohhhkay.” She cleared her throat. “I’d better find Cole before this gets any more… interesting.”

Solas shrugged. Ember turned to him sharply, eyebrows raised. He smirked. “I’m sure his little tricks will remain harmless.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, probably. But, I mean...” Her eyebrows furrowed. “I should probably at least redirect his efforts to something less...” She gestured with one flailing hand, blushing again, and then turned to rush out of the room.

“If you must,” he murmured as she all but ran away.

\----

Ember sat at Cabot’s counter in the Herald’s Rest, nursing a spiced mead. “I just can’t figure out how he got the tree up there.”

“Who?” The bartender had forgotten Cole yet again, even though the spirit boy kept his few belongings directly above the dwarf, two stories up.

Ember shook her head. “Nevermind.”

“HEY BOSS!” an enthusiastic voice boomed from across the tavern.

She turned to give the Iron Bull a wan smile as he approached. “Hey Bull, what’s up?”

“You _liked_ the tree?” Bull laughed. “Krem got it into his head that it would be a funny prank to put a tree in the middle of your room. We didn’t expect you to keep it!”

Ember stared at him for a moment, jaw slack, and then burst out in delighted laughter. “That was you guys?! You want to help me decorate it?”

He settled on the stool beside her. “You’re gonna decorate the tree?”

“Yeah, it’s an old tradition. My family did it every winter. Not sure what we’ll use here, though.”

He stroked his chin. “Are there rules?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are there things you shouldn't use to decorate the tree, like, for symbolic reasons?”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “I mean it’s supposed to be happy stuff, and it has to be small enough to hang on a branch somehow. We had a whole collection of little ornaments that we added to every year as we grew up. They’re like tokens, memories.”

“What are you doing Tuesday afternoon?”

“Aside from the usual meetings? Not much.”

Bull grinned. “Good. Keep it that way. I have an idea.”

\-----

Solas contemplated the slice of bone in his hand. He did not often paint on such a small scale, but there was no particular reason he couldn’t.

He dug through his pack for his narrowest brushes, frowned, finding nothing small enough, and rose to forage for suitable materials.

\-----

Ember sat beside the fire at the table Varric had set up for his endless letter writing, stringing little pine cones and prophet’s laurel berries into a loose garland for her tree.

“What can I do for you, Pipes?” Varric asked as he returned to his chair with a mug of warm spiced butterbeer and a bowl of nuts. “Or are you just using me for my table?”

“Table near a fire,” she nodded impishly, tying off the last of the cord. “Do you have a scrap I could steal?” she asked, pointing to the loose stacks of papers held safe from the winter winds coming through the booming great doors whenever they opened by honest-to-Andraste carved stone paperweights.

The dwarf nodded amiably. “Fresh, or discarded writing scrap?” 

“As long as it’s blank on one side, I don’t care what’s on the other.”

He grinned, and handed her a letter with many lines scratched out, and choice words scribbled in the margins. She skimmed it, raising an eyebrow. “Who’s ‘Bran’?”

“The extremely-reluctant Provisional Viscount of Kirkwall.”

She snorted. “Too scathing?”

“No such thing! Smart enough not to want the job, but well aware anybody else would be worse.”

“Poor guy.”

“You can pity him after you’ve tried working with him directly.” Varric gave her a wry smirk, and then a confused look as she folded the paper diagonally, tearing to make a square. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll see,” she grinned, her hands moving through the motions to make an origami crane almost of their own will. Once the familiar bird was formed, she paused to show it to her friend, who made suitably appreciative noises, before she continued to make additional folds to the tail, wings, and head.

“Is that... “ Varric squinted slightly with a bemused grin. “That’s a dragon, isn’t it? You just folded up a dragon.”

“Yup!” Ember grinned back, poking a small hole in the center of the back, running the end of the garland cord through, and tying off a barrel knot to hold it in place. “Perfect!”

“What’s this for?”

“My tree!”

Varric laughed. “You’re seriously keeping that tree in your room? You know it’s just going to die and drop its needles all over the floor, right?”

“Of course it will. And the room will smell increasingly like fir sap as it goes.”

He shook his head. “To each their own, Pipes. I prefer to keep the outdoors out, thanks.”

\-----

Tuesday late afternoon found Ember sitting on the floor beside her tree, squinting with focus as she attempted to manifest some sort of magical lights as the sky outside began to dim. For the first time in a while, she missed electricity, not wanting to risk candles without knowing how long the tree had to dry out after being cut. She’d managed to get one or two wisps to pop out briefly and circle the tree several times before losing interest and going to investigate the mostly-bare shrines she’d set up in the loft, when a knock on the door at the base of the stairs drew her out of her reverie.

“Come in!” she called, expecting Bull, and maybe the rest of her team. She was startled as a steady train of senior Chargers entered, carrying platters of food, candelabras, and several sturdy crates to serve as tables and benches. They were followed by a barely-restrained Josephine who fluttered about with excitement and fretted over the best place to set things down. Not long after, Varric and Cole showed up, along with her other advisors, and finally Cassandra’s team as well.

Ember blinked. This was quite a few more people than she’d been expecting. Everyone milled about for a bit, each greeting her briefly with a grin before sorting themselves into small clumps around food, seating, the tree, or the hearth. Cullen and Cassandra both headed directly for the balcony to watch the sunset, perhaps overwhelmed by the size of the small crowd crammed into the tower. Ember certainly was. She glanced around, biting her lip, not wanting to admit that she was looking for a certain bald elf. She sighed, shaking herself out of the quiet disappointment when he didn’t appear with the rest of them.

“Krem!” Bull called out, even more boisterous than usual. Ember winced slightly, and the huge Qunari nodded in apology before calling his Lieutenant’s name again in a quieter tone.

“Here Chief!” the younger man called from across the room, where he was helping Josephine set up the food.

“Show the Boss what you brought!” he grinned.

Krem grinned back and dug what looked to be a potato with rabbit ears out of his pack. “I’m still working on the pattern, then I’ll make a bigger one.”

Ember smiled and cooed at the little stuffed nug. “Leliana! You have got to see these!”

“I still think you should give ‘em wings, Krem,” Bull laughed.

“We’re not going to make them fly, Chief,” he replied, rolling his eyes.

Sera cackled, arriving at the top of the stairs and calling down behind her, “You should make a winged nug, eh, Beardy?” She pulled a small sack out from gods only knew where, and dropped it with a clatter in front of the hearth, grinning at Ember like a cat who’d found a month’s worth of cream. Blackwall lumbered in behind her with a small box he set down beside her with considerably more care. Both set about unpacking their treasures, and tying bits of red yarn to them in various ways, Ember immediately joining them to help.

Sera’s collection was mostly random bits of shiny, broken things she’d picked up in the field: 

A cracked porcelain cameo of some random Orlesian lady, a bone Halla with one antler broken, a rusty bronze acorn, and what looked to be Fereldan and Orlesian toy soldiers with the paint rubbing off. She held up a rough-carved wooden mabari, smirking at Blackwall, who laughed and tried to grab it from her hand without luck. “I’d wondered where that one got off to! Should’ve known.”

His own box held similar figurines, all small enough to carry in a pocket and carve by a campfire. Some were rough, others more finished, mostly animals - dogs, cats, foxes, birds, tiny dragons and wyverns, several nugs, and one incredibly detailed little gryphon, which he handled with special care.

Ember gasped, seeing it up close. “Oh my goodness, Blackwall, that’s beautiful! Are you going to paint it?”

The older man shrugged, blushing slightly. “It’s just something to keep my hands busy. I give them to children as I wander, so they don’t clutter up my pack.”

“Sweet man,” Ember murmured. Sera gave him a fond look behind his back until he turned to look and she stuck her tongue out at him.

“You know,” Ember continued, “the tree will only be up for a couple weeks at most. You should collect them when it comes down and hand them out.”

He waved a hand, shaking his head with a short laugh. “Oh, anybody can do that, and there’s never any shortage of sticks in the field. You all keep them. I’ll just make more. Never could hold still.”

Across the room, Varric busted up laughing as Vivienne gave him a haughty smirk. Cassandra and Cullen, still out on the balcony, were both leaning on the railing, side-by-side. Josephine and Dorian stood near the charcuterie board laughing as Leliana made surprisingly wild gestures with one hand, the other holding her wine perfectly still. The Chargers had gathered around their leaders on the floor beside Ember’s bed, tossing one of the stuffed nugs back and forth along with insults that apparently had to rhyme the first word with the last of the previous quip.

Ember looked around the room, fondly, and sighed. It wasn’t the same as home, certainly, but it was a damned sight better than crying alone on her balcony at night. She got up and helped Sera to her feet, gesturing for Blackwall to bring the box of makeshift ornaments with him to the tree.

Varric came up behind Ember, putting a thick hand on her shoulder. “So, Pipes, what’s the occasion here? Why are we bringing the outdoors inside and hanging trinkets on it?”

Ember blinked, turning to Sera for the next ornament. “It’s a holiday tradition. Where I come from, we get together for midwinter and share gifts and sing songs, and play games all night. We decorate a tree, and hang stockings by the fireplace so parents can hide little gifts in them for their kids. We light a candle at sunset and keep it and the hearthfire burning until dawn, when we sing up the sun to celebrate surviving the longest night of the year.”

“You’ve got songs for this. Why am I not surprised,” Varric grinned.

She grinned. “Oh, so many songs. I know dozens, easily, just for this. But this isn’t just me. Songs for the winter holidays are a big, big deal back home. Everybody knows them, even if they don’t want to.”

“Well, let’s hear some, then!” Bull called out, disrupting the game on the floor.

Ember glanced around. “I mean… most of them wouldn’t make any sense to you but, maybe I can sort one out. Hmm…” She gestured for Sera and Blackwall to finish hanging the ornaments while she moved to one side, out of their way, clearing her throat.

_“I don’t know if winter is your season  
Or if you have memories of candles on a tree.  
But, if you believe in love,  
That would be more than enough  
For you to come and celebrate with me.” _

Bull grinned at her, nodding, and elbowing Krem to get the other Chargers to shut up and listen. Varric had moved to her desk to get out a quill and take down some notes.

_“For I have held the precious gift that love brings,  
Even though I cannot see the winter sun.  
I know there is a light;  
I have felt it burn inside,  
And I have seen it shining with the dawn.” _

Cullen and Cassandra had returned from the balcony, as things quieted. Ember caught Cole peeking down from her loft, a beatific smile on his usually placid face.

_“Solstice is a time to come together;  
A time to put our differences aside.” _

The door at the base of the stairs clicked quietly, and Ember turned around as she finished the chorus, to find Solas silently climbing the stairs. She smiled as she sang the last few lines.

_“And I reach out my hand_  
_To my family and my friends_  
_To share the joy I feel at each Yuletide.”_

Vivienne, Dorian, Josephine, and Leliana immediately began clapping politely as she finished. She bowed slightly to them, and turned to greet Solas, who flushed at finding himself inadvertently the center of attention.

“My apologies for arriving late, Inquisitor,” he murmured, holding out a slice of polished bone, which he held carefully by the edges. “I’m afraid the paint hasn’t quite dried.”

She took it from him, careful not to smudge the edges, and examined the picture. His bold, stylized lines were familiar from the first of several frescoes he had begun painting in the rotunda. She smiled at the image of an embrium bloom, the colors so vivid it almost seemed to glow the way the plant did. She wondered if he’d used magic, whether it would actually glow in the dark.

He gestured for her to turn it around, smiling. She blinked, grinning. The other side depicted a stark outline of Skyhold, a howling white wolf in front of it, and a single, bright star hovering above, at least as radiant as the embrium on the other side.

“It’s beautiful, Solas. What’s it for?”

“Bull told us you wished for decorations to hang on your tree. I thought this would suit you.”

Cole spoke up from the doorway to the loft ladder. _“Warmth in the cold, a light in the dark, there is always a path forward, if one looks for it. She will find a way.”_

Solas nodded at the spirit boy, smiling slightly. “You represent many things to many people, now, Ember. The obligation that implies no doubt overwhelms you at times, but do not forget that one of the things you bring us is _hope.”_

She swallowed hard, looking between them, and then up and away, her empty hand fluttering nervously. “You’re going to make me cry, here, guys.” Her laugh was strained, but fond. “I’ll just, um, let me get some ribbon to hang this by the fire until it dries.”

Solas nodded and followed her towards the hearth, pausing to choose from the platter of tarts along the way. Sera tossed the remaining red yarn over to Ember, rolling her eyes at Solas, before returning to snort at whatever joke Blackwall had just been making. Ember handed the ornament back to Solas before biting off a likely length of string to thread through the small hole bored at the top of the bone slice.

“Solas, is there a way to make lots of lights that won’t burn the tree. Like wisps, but smaller, and staying put?”

He smiled. “Like fireflies? Yes. I can show you, if you like.”

“Please do!” she grinned back at him.

It took several tries, but she was finally able to adorn the tree with several different colors of tiny, sparkling lights, sighing happily as the sky grew fully dark. Her friends gathered around the tree to gaze at it for a while - well, everyone but Sera, who avoided the magicked tree entirely, now, in favor of trying to climb Ember’s bookcase. Ember shook with silent laughter when she spotted the young elf lounging across the top shelf.

“She reminds you of waterbirds on antlers?” Cole tilted his head, confused, making Ember laugh aloud, to the confusion of everyone else.

“Did that make sense to you, Chuckles?” Varric asked Solas.

True to his nickname, Solas laughed gently. “I’m afraid even I cannot follow when the spirits speak to the Inquisitor, Master Tethras.”

“Right. I’d better head down before this gets any weirder,” Bull laughed. “Chargers, we’ve got ice training in the morning!” A chorus of groans chased him down the stairs, followed by a half-dozen pairs of stomping feet.

Most of the others made similar excuses before departing themselves, now that the moon was rising. Ember stopped her advisors to request that the next morning’s meeting be postponed to afternoon.

“Let’s just take the day off,” Josephine suggested. Ember smiled at her, gratefully.

As he, too, turned to leave, Ember put a hand on Solas’ arm. He turned to her, eyebrows raised.

“Solas, I, um…” she bit her lip, unsure why she was suddenly so nervous. “The last part of this tradition is for me to stay up all night, keeping the fire burning, to make sure the sun rises. Would-” she cleared her throat, “Would you join me, please?”

His startled smile settled the nervous butterflies in her stomach. “I would be honored, Ember. What would you have me do?”

She shrugged, gesturing to the sofa in front of the hearth. “We can just sit around and talk and finish eating all these snacks, really. As long as we don’t fall asleep.”

He nodded, gesturing for her to lead the way. “Perhaps you could tell me more about these traditions from your home?”

\-----

The time passed like music, here slow and smooth, there startlingly fast. The moon, with its icy halo, took turns shining through one stained glass after another before setting behind the peaks, leaving the room to be lit by only the dwindling fire. She sang him songs with faith references he couldn’t recognize, and jokes he did not understand, and yet somehow, he felt entirely welcome for the first time in longer than he could easily remember. She was warm and open, and part of him ached that he could not be so open in return.

He shook his head at himself, wondering when spending hours simply talking with a young human woman had become a more fascinating pastime than wandering the fade.

“Dawn is almost here,” she observed, rising from the sofa to head out to the balcony with the best view of the Eastern sky. She leaned on the bannister, wrapped in a blanket, her breath visible in the chill air. “I didn’t think I’d get to do this here. Thank you for staying with me, Solas.”

“You are welcome. What do we do now?” he gestured to the increasingly-golden sky.

She grinned at him. “What else? I sing a song, of course!”

\-----

Across the castle, Leliana awoke as early as ever to find a potato-sized lump distorting one of her stockings. The smooth silk, which had been tied to her bedpost with obvious care, had most definitely not been there the night before when she crawled into bed.

Disturbed at the prospect of someone sneaking into her room as she slept without her noticing, she made a mental tab to give a raise to whichever of her agents had managed it - provided it wasn’t a trap, of course.

She untied the stocking with caution, surprised at how light it was. Rolling it up revealed a small stuffed nug made of finely-woven burlap.

Her eyes widened. Then narrowed. Then she rolled them, sighing.

“Cole.”

\-----

**Author's Note:**

> Songs modified by Ember:  
> "White Christmas" by Irving Berlin  
> "12 Days of Christmas" - Traditional  
> "The Christmas Wish" by Danny Wheetman, performed by John Denver
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has left kudos or commented or even just read and enjoyed my fics this year - this one or otherwise. Sometimes, knowing this was here was what kept me going. <3 <3 <3


End file.
